


Winter Rose

by marzana



Category: Ranma 1/2
Genre: Angst, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:29:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27567526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marzana/pseuds/marzana
Summary: As the seasons change, so does their love. Whatever is between them is ready to break. Should they give up or give in?
Relationships: Saotome Ranma/Tendou Akane
Comments: 33
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> my first ranma fic! i couldn’t get this out of my head!
> 
> i hope you enjoy ♥️

She rushes through the bitter, dead cold, the air so dry that her lungs burn with each breath. It's the kind of winter morning where the sun hides behind the fog, the few hours of daylight left sure to look the same.

And it sucks. It hurts to breathe. It shouldn't hurt to _breathe_.

Her nostrils flare as she inhales, so frosty that it feels like fire. She wishes she were Ranma right now. Laying under a warm blanket in a warm room. If he was smart enough to stay asleep, that is.

She hopes he didn't wake up. If he did, she doubts he'd realized she was doing him a favor. She bites the insides of her cheeks. If he was on his way now, this would be a terrible time to start something.

Or maybe an argument would warm her up? They haven't been doing it lately… _much,_ anyway.

_That idiot better stay home today. He needs the rest._

And finally, she's at the gates, her final winter of high school right before her eyes. If it was snowing, maybe it'd look as beautiful as it felt.

Actually, it was strange that it _hadn't_ snowed yet. December had just begun, but the weather was more than good enough.

She's earlier than she thought — _way_ earlier. As she enters the building and peers down the hall, she sees next to nobody. The cold really got to her today, huh?

She takes her time changing her shoes and shrugging off her coat. She folds it neatly into the crease of her elbow, ready to head into homeroom and look over her work, until heavy fingers wrap around her arm and pull her back.

What she hates is how even though his hand is _freezing,_ his touch is so hot, even through her clothes. She hates how he makes her feel so tiny, his fingers closing all the way around her arm. And most of all.

How she knew it was him right away.

Her body will recognize him anytime, anywhere. Won't it? It's a part of the deal neither of them ever made.

And yet, she's left _shocked,_ looking over her shoulder as his grip grows tighter. Her already-pink cheeks beam with the fresh blood that pools to them.

He looks so… _serious._

 _Angry,_ really. And it catches her even _more_ off guard. Anything she could say to break that expression is lost on her.

His eyes are so icy, so intent on her. Her stomach flips.

His voice is low and rough with sleep. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

She blinks hard, her throat dry. Why is he so… so… so _mad_ at her?

He pulls her slightly closer, her forearm hanging as his hold makes her malleable. She's supposed to be in _control_ here. How can he _talk_ to her like this? Especially over not waking him up for _school?!_

"' _kane,"_ he says, demanding. His gaze so steady that it scares her.

Or maybe that's not the word — it's not the word to describe the goosebumps that rise on her skin.

He squeezes her arm, frown growing deeper, and the corners press into her chest. She can't _stand_ this. Her heart is _pounding._

And right then, she's so _aware_ of how he's stunned her. How can she give into him so easily? She grits her teeth, eyes falling shut as a heated energy rises inside.

"Well, _maybe_ if you didn't rely on _me_ to—" she tears her arm away, or at least attempts to — she's cut off by the way he pulls her in even _closer._

She doesn't understand what his voice does to her body at the moment. "Akane, could you cut it _out_ and answer my question?"

Somehow, his voice is even lower. His eyes pierce her like the cold outside.

And she _shivers._

_What is happening to me right now?_

Is he actually that upset with her? That's the last thing she wants…

She looks down to the ground shyly, her blush growing deeper as his soft breath hits her cheek. "I just wanted you to get some rest, Ranma. I noticed that you haven't been sleeping lately… and it's so cold today, I just… didn't have the heart to wake you up…"

She doesn't need to look at him to know he's caught off guard. His hand goes tense before slipping down and away.

Did he really have to assume the worst? And embarrass her like this? She brings a hand underneath her chin and finds the courage to peek at him through her lashes.

"I wasn't trying to get back at you or make you mad, Ranma," she says, finding her voice, even though it's little. His undereyes are so dark, like violet moons, and the same concern she's felt for him the last few days fills her and overrides everything else. She tilts her head, frowning slightly. "Ranma, why haven't you been sleeping?"

He blinks down at her, his jaw slack and eyes still so wide with surprise. She has this urge to reach out to him. To touch him. He looks so tired, almost ill, and it hurts her heart to see him like this. She _hates_ it when he doesn't take care of himself.

The silence between them stretches for too long, but she doesn't break it. She waits patiently for him. It's the least she can do.

"I-I-I, _um,"_ he stutters.

_Is he… blushing?_

"Are you cold?" she says, eyebrows furrowed, tugging lightly at the sleeve of his red Chinese shirt. Why doesn't he ever dress appropriately for the cold weather?!

"N-no!" he says, finally shaken out of his odd stupor, his arms flailing in front of him. "I, I just—"

She puts her hands on her hips and raises a brow. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

" _No!_ 'kane, _listen—"_

"Are you doing some kinda weird training again?" She crosses her arms. "Ranma, I _swear…_ "

That _idiot!_ It _has_ to be something weird. He's always taking the shadiest offers without ever worrying about the consequences! She puffs one hip out and glares up at him, staying still as he grows more and more flustered.

He's getting frustrated with her now. He stills and bares his teeth, matching her stare. " _No. Nothing's_ going on. Okay?"

Her brow twitches higher. Is she supposed to believe him? The boy who only lives to eat, sleep, and fight?

He groans when she doesn't relent, pushing his bangs back. The sight of that almost makes her, though. Does he have to be so… so… _ugh!_

"That doesn't ever happen to you, Akane? When you just can't sleep? I _know_ that's happened to you before."

She dimples one cheek and nods. "Yeah, I know what you mean. You really don't know why?"

That's when his face goes pale and expressionless, but only for a second. He shakes it off before she can even blink and smiles weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't. But hopefully I'll catch up on sleep soon."

He shoves his hands into his pockets and walks past her, his arm brushing her shoulder. When had he gotten so tall? He stops a few steps behind her and turns his head to the side, his eye glinting as it catches hers. "Thanks for worrying about me."

Her first instinct is to deny it, but that's not the rational part of her. The rational part of her knows it's ridiculous, that it's entirely _useless,_ so she stifles it.

How can she _not_ worry about him? Especially when he lied to her just now?

He gives her another smile, one so gentle that it goes straight to her heart, and she watches as he walks away.

* * *

She's always surprising him.

Or maybe she just reminds him of how she really is, and it always leaves him _stupid_ for some damn reason. As if he doesn't _know_ just how… how… nice? _Caring._ She can be.

They've been _good_ lately. He doesn't know what it is exactly, but for the most part, it's been so much easier between them — he bites his tongue and she pulls her punches. Was it really that simple, all this time?

So when she left without him this morning, it made his chest feel weird. Almost like it was sore after a hard workout, but he's never felt it _there_ like that, and he hasn't been doing anything crazy lately.

It pissed him off. Or maybe he just _wanted_ to be pissed.

Honestly, it kinda… kinda made him _sad._ That they were back to _that._ The whole way to school, while he was chasing her down, because she was moving so freaking _fast,_ he racked his brain for anything he could've done that made her leave him behind.

Was it that he stole a bite of her food last night? No, she only did that little angry pout before stealing from his bowl. Was it that he wouldn't spar with her for real yesterday? Nah, she actually looked like she was… having _fun._ Was it because he kept bothering her while she was trying to study after school? No, it couldn't be, she was laughing right along with him…

And to think it was all because she was _worried_ about him. He felt so _bad_ when she looked at him like that, all eyelashes and big doe eyes and pretty pink cheeks, admitting that she did it for his sake.

 _Fuck._ He grimaces, shifting in his seat as a familiar warmth rolls through his stomach. _Did she have to look at me like that?_

She set her _pride_ aside. _For him._ Why was that so… _so…_

He sighs, slumping forward in his seat. "' _kane,"_ he mumbles, more of a noise of despair than her name.

He _despises_ it when she worries about him. When she takes notice of his suffering, it makes him feel _weak_ in a way he can't take. But the thing is, she's usually the first, or the _only_ person to see it. She always catches him when he's vulnerable.

So maybe it made more sense to assume she didn't wake him out of spite. He was hoping she hadn't noticed just how sleep deprived he's been.

Especially since it's _her_ fault.

_Well, not really._

Except _yes,_ really. Not intentionally.

He's sure she has no idea what she's doing to him.

He lifts his head and instantly catches the sight of her neck, so long and thin. Her hair has grown out a little bit — he thinks back to the way the ends curled around her delicate jaw and bites his lip, willing himself to look away but failing. He likes her hair like that. At any length, really.

But he thinks he might like her neck _more_.

_Stop. She already thinks you're a pervert._

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head before picking up his pencil. He should probably take notes.

But he's already so hypnotized that he loses himself again, staring down at the white of his paper, only the date written in the corner.

His mouth and cheek twitches. His leg bounces uncontrollably. _I am so fucked._

He can't help but look up again. And it's _torture._ When did things get so different between them? Maybe he should start something with her. Throw a paper ball at her and piss her off, some sense of normalcy.

But did he really want _that_ normal? The sick part is, is that he _does_ want to fight with her. He wants to rile her up and make her _violent,_ but everything they used to argue about feels so _pointless_ now.

He wants to fight about something _new._ He's just not sure what.

 _Maybe_ fight _is not the word you're thinking about._

He clenches his jaw and drives his pencil into the paper, the point breaking with a _crack._

He doesn't know how long he stares down at the broken lead — long enough for a small hand to reach out and place a freshly sharpened pencil on his desk.

He looks up just in time to see her sit back down. She tilts her head, questioning for just a second before rolling her eyes, the smallest smile playing on her lips, and turning back around.

His body is so tired that the way his heart beats feels like an echo. He feels it all through his limbs, through all of his veins, trying to wake up the parts of him that have fallen apart.

Was it that loud? And how does she know that's like, the only pencil he has? Come to think about it, he stole it off the floor a week or two ago…

" _Ranma…"_

Why does his name sound so far away?

" _Ranma."_

Something… on his shoulder…

" _Ranma!"_

With a heavy shake, he's startled back to reality. He _jumps_ in his seat, hands up in the air as he turns his stiff neck to face—

"A-Akane!" he says, forcing his body to relax. "Wh-what—"

"It's lunch time," she says, tapping her fingers on the edge of his desk. "You weren't paying attention all morning, were you?"

They both look down at his blank paper. He looks at her and shakes his head unnecessarily.

She giggles. "Oh, Ranma…"

He chuckles nervously, feeling almost delirious. He slumps back in his seat and hangs his arm behind the head of the chair, opening his bag without looking. He _did_ take his lunch today, right?

Oh, he's _hungry._ He hasn't eaten in at _least_ twelve hours. But for him, it may as well be twenty four. _No._ Thirty two. His stomach growls loudly as the hunger pangs through him painfully, his stomach constricting. And forces him to lean forward, head hitting the desk.

"Oh, poor Ranma… don't worry, I took your bento box this morning. I figured if you ended up coming to school, you'd forget to take it…"

She carefully pushes him to a sitting position. Okay, his hunger and exhaustion has officially rendered him _stupefied._ She clucks her tongue and lays the bento box gently in front of him after taking his notes off his desk.

"Eat now. I'll be right back," she says after bending behind his chair and slipping his things inside his bag.

He blinks himself out of his daze, as if it was actually her _presence_ taking him out and not his lack of self-care. He licks his lips and opens his bento.

He nearly salivates at the sight of tamagoyaki, onigiri, and vegetables, even though it didn't seem like enough with how hungry he is. He'll take anything he can get right now. He immediately bites into one onigiri, pleased to find that there's shrimp inside. He thanks the Gods for Kasumi as he feels his energy being restored.

"Wow, you're almost done already?!" Akane says, appearing out of _nowhere_ and making him

pause in the middle of a bite. "Wait, why am I surprised?" She rolls her eyes before setting a container down in front of him. "I got you orange juice. It'll make you feel better."

Maybe it's because she's giving him _that_ smile. Or because she's tucking her hair behind her ear. Or the fact that she went out of her way to get him a drink when he hadn't even noticed how thirsty he is.

_Thirsty, alright._

His own smile is uneasy, wavering like water. "Th-thanks, 'kane, you didn't hafta—"

Her face pulls into a dead stare so quickly that it actually scares him. He gulps and holds his chopsticks in front of him.

Her voice is eerily steady. "You better start taking care of yourself. Or else." And as fast as it left, her smile returns. "Okay?"

He nods, suddenly determined to do just as she said— out of fear or respect, he's not sure. He finishes every last bit of food and chugs the orange juice down. For some reason, it tastes better than he remembers.

As he's wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he glances her way. She's laughing at something her friends are saying. _Damn_ , he wants to make her laugh again.

He watches as she pauses and glances down at her own food, fiddling with her chopsticks before setting them down. She turns abruptly and he looks away before she can catch him staring.

"Hey, Ranma. You still hungry?"

At that, he doesn't hide his desperation. If he had a tail, it'd be wagging right about now. She's practically _spoiling_ him today.

Really, he wouldn't mind getting used to it.

"You can have the rest of mine." She walks over and places her bento in front of him.

Chicken katsu over rice… _damn,_ how is he still starving?

But how come she barely ate it herself? Barely a quarter's gone…

He looks up at her, brows furrowed in concern. "You sure? How come you didn't eat much?"

She shrugs, pulling her lips to one side. "That doesn't ever happen to you, Ranma? When you just can't eat?"

He chuckles, shaking his head as she goes back to her seat, a cheeky smile on her face. Did she have to be so annoyingly _cute?_

He finishes it in no time, finding the taste of the katsu different, but definitely still delicious. He empties her bento like he did his and leans back, rubbing his stomach.

" _Whew._ You're a lifesaver, 'kane."

She grins brightly, hands on her cheeks. "You liked it?"

He raises a brow and laughs. "Yeah, 'course I did, why wouldn't I—" His eyes go wide. "Wait… _you…"_

She nods her head enthusiastically, legs bouncing up and down. "Yes. _I did."_

He sits up, staring at her empty lunch box. "But how… what… where… when… why… _you…"_

She just about shrieks in excitement. And somewhere past his disbelief, his heart swells in pride.

"I asked Kasumi to guide me, step-by-step. She oversaw my craft… and helped me correct every little mistake! I made it last night, while you were in the dojo!"

He beams at her, wondering how he could miss that. Usually, she's so _loud_ in the kitchen. "It was really good, Akane, I'm impressed!"

She flutters her eyelashes and looks down, all innocent and flushed and _oh,_ she's _doing it_ again. Making his chest feel all funny as she _reacts_ to him. "That means a lot, Ranma," she says softly, her gratitude so thick in the air between them.

He's so proud of her. And he knows just how proud she is of herself, too. He laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

* * *

Even though gym is inside, she doesn't understand why the girls still have to wear their shorts. She's freezing her ass off watching the boys play basketball.

She'd rather play herself than stay here and chat! But it's not like it's her choice.

And it's not like it's _all_ bad either.

No matter what he does, his physicality always translates so well. It doesn't matter that he doesn't play other sports often — he's a natural, practically flying across the court with a strong grace she can only dream of having. He's so in control of himself, the ball, the game, of _her._ It's embarrassing. Humiliating. _Mortifying._

Who told him to look so handsome today?

It's making her pulse skip. It's keeping her in a trance. It's making her mind have to jumpstart whenever her friends call her name.

She crosses her arms over her chest, teeth chattering. But once he's passing by her again, she goes loose and warm all over, a simmering heat spreading low in her belly.

And then even moreso, as he looks her way.

As a matter of fact, he's been glancing at her the whole period, like he's checking to see if she's looking. And of course, she's never looked away. How can she? He's running on next to no hours of sleep, carrying a pretty intense game of basketball like it's nothing.

Actually, she can't stop staring at him. It has to be because he actually liked her cooking for once. And _complimented_ it. And now it's doing weird to her mind. Making her eyes stay on him, her vision practically tunneling over.

He stops, shooting the ball from a good distance away. It goes right through the hoop, but that's not a surprise, and that's not what keeps her interest. It's the way his arms looked as he threw. His back as it flexed. That self-absorbed smirk of his as he scored.

He glances over his shoulder, peering at her. She squints her eyes, telling him without words, _don't be so arrogant, you were gonna get it, anyway._

The corner of his mouth twitches in amusement. She crosses her arms underneath her chest and tucks her hands under her arms. She also crosses her legs and shakes her head. _What a show-off._

"Wow, the boys are really into this game, huh?" Yuka says.

She wouldn't know. Her eyes have only been on Ranma. Not like she'll tell her friends that, though.

"Especially Ranma… how many times has he scored already?" Sayuri replies.

"A lot! Akane, he was so good before, but now he's even better!" Yuka says.

Akane _pfffts_ and cranes her neck, one brow raised. "It's because he thinks everything is a martial art. He's taking this way too seriously."

"What's wrong with that? It's fun to watch!" Sayuri says.

Akane shrugs, too entranced to let it irritate her. "He just does so much, all the time. It's unnecessary."

She feels her friends glance at each other before turning their attention back to the game. She furrows her brows together in concentration.

She's not wrong. Ranma _does_ do way too much.

Especially now. Why is he putting in so much effort? There's no way he's not pushing himself to perform this well.

He runs a bit too close to the edge of the court, close to where she's sitting in the front row, and smirks. She _hmphs._ All she can see are the bags under his eyes.

" _Idiot,"_ she mutters under her breath.

Or maybe not. Her friends turn to her, perplexed. "Is it because he's been looking at you the whole time?" Sayuri says, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She huffs. "That idiot is showing off for no reason."

"Then maybe… don't look at him? Akane, let's try something," Yuka says, leaning in and whispering between the three of them. "Pretend like you're not interested anymore."

She tilts her head, blinking. "Why?"

Yuka giggles, and so does Sayuri as she catches on. "Trust us."

She hesitates before agreeing, pretending to check her nails as her friends chatter about nonsense. It makes her nervous, but she complies, using an abnormal amount of willpower to keep herself from checking out Ranma — checking _on_ Ranma. _God._

She laughs from nerves and the fake conversation she's in the middle of. They're speaking gibberish at this point. But it's not until Yuka squeezes her arm that she finally looks up, immediately finding Ranma directly in front of her line of vision. With a startled expression, he trips, but catches himself right away before running off to the other side of the court.

She blinks, not even knowing what to think. A laugh escapes her at his reaction. What kind of _face_ was that?

On either side of her, her friends burst out in laughter, gripping each arm and rocking her between them. She forces herself out of their grasp. "What? What is it?"

Yuka leans in, her smile way too big to be anything good. "It hasn't even been five minutes and he looked at you, like, twenty times. Probably more."

Her eyes bug out, heat instantly creeping up her neck. " _Hmm?"_

"Yeah, and by the second time he realized you weren't looking, he got _sooo_ sad. Like some kicked puppy," Sayuri snickers. "I've never seen him look so disappointed!"

She stares down at her lap in shock as Yuka chimes back in. "Akane, we've been telling you, he's got it bad for ya… he's literally _tripping_ over you! C'mon!"

"B-b-b-but—" she stutters, an inexplicable feeling of shame building pressure inside of her.

"Not only that, he started playing a bit worse once he realized you weren't paying attention. Hey, you okay? You can look now, if you don't want him to lose," Sayuri says.

How is she supposed to feel about this? It's like her insides are twisting and turning, trying to level but finding no comfortable place to settle. The sudden emotion pushes tears to her eyes. She blinks them away, brushing her fingertips over her thighs. She sighs deeply.

"Serves him right for being such a show-off," she says, holding her head high, her attention back on the game.

And as soon as her focus is back on him, his is on her, too.

She's not prepared for it.

There was no precursor, no warning. But there aren't any for a single, subtle action.

It's not fair. The way it devastates her. Shakes her up. The butterflies in her tummy melt and electrify and _ruin_ her.

The way half a second can take away her whole entire sense of self is beyond her.

He winked at her.

And he had even more audacity to freaking _smile_ right after.

And a single moment later, she has no hope of recovering. She's struck with a sudden loss of control, her body reacting without her permission. She's warm and buzzing all over. Feeling too full and too empty. Incomplete, somehow. Like she's lost something she's never even had.

She's longing.

Like she's _missing_ him.

Like he's _hers_ and she had him for real.

The feeling envelopes her in its sickly sweet syrup. She presses her leg hard on top of the other. All of it is addicting. All of it makes her want to run away.

She wants to go to him and forget his existence at the same time, with the same amount of desire, in equal measure.

Everything around them drowns out. He shoots the winning shot and the gym erupts into cheers.

Across the room, through the crowd of people, he finds her eyes and holds them.

And for the time, she lets herself believe that it means more than it does.


	2. Chapter 2

At home, he shoves his palm harder into his jaw, his fingers drumming on the table. Even cross-legged, he's bouncing in place, only seeing the images flashing across the screen without any focus.

It's dark already. Where the _hell_ is she?

" _I'm gonna stay after school today,"_ she said. " _Just go on home. And make sure you stay the hell out of my way."_

Okay, she didn't say _that_ but she may as well have, with how cold and distant she sounded. And at first he was confused, because it was so out of _nowhere._

And then it ticked him right off.

He was muttering under his breath the whole way home, and even now, he's just barely resisting the urge to break something. She's always sending him into a whirl, flip-flopping between moods like a _goddamn_ light switch.

The thing with her is that he can _always_ tell right away when something changed in her. It can just be a sparkle or a dimming light in her eyes. A twitch or a split second of hesitation. He can see how she's feeling, but almost never _why,_ and it drives him fucking _nuts._

He hears the chatter behind him, but ignores it. He's so lost in his thoughts that he forgot he wasn't alone.

" _I'll wait for you in school. Or do you really have to stay? It's gonna be dark soon. And the cold's gonna get worse,"_ he said.

She shook her head, a nauseatingly fake smile on her face. " _I won't be long, Ranma. It's alright. I'll see you later, okay?"_

" _But—"_ he started, only to be cut off by her walking off with a wave.

He scoffs at the memory. _That girl is_ unbelievable.

"Are you alright, Ranma?" Soun says.

" _Ah,_ you know how he gets. Just leave him be," his father says, the sound of shifting pieces grating to his ears.

"Hmm… I wonder where Akane is? It's getting awfully cold…" Nabiki says, like she knows _exactly_ what's going on. He has to force himself to relax to not give too much away, but he's sure she caught it. He can feel her evil smirk burning into his back.

"Dinner's almost ready!" Kasumi calls.

_Great. And still no sign of that moron._

"Boy, are you worried about Akane?" Soun asks, a sudden stillness in the air. "Why don't you go check for her, then?"

He growls before tearing his gaze away from the tv. "She doesn't _want_ me to."

Nabiki whistles. " _Ooo…_ haven't seen _this_ in awhile, Ranma baby."

He rolls his eyes. "Oh, _please,_ Nabiki, _don't start."_

She raises her brows and turns her attention back to the magazine in her hands. "Whatever you say."

He huffs and turns back around, arms crossed tightly across his chest. His thoughts trail back to the day. She'd been… _herself._ Like, the _good_ parts of herself. That only people who _deserve it_ see.

So what made him stop deserving it, then?! She was happy with him, wasn't she?

Maybe… it started… in gym?

She was _fine_ until the end of the period. When she stopped paying attention. Why did that make him so sad? It was like she was his good luck charm, making him play even better than usual, and that's _saying something._ So he was really happy about it, especially when she started looking at him again. Like, _really_ happy, all over and everywhere.

So _it_ just kinda came over him. And _yeah,_ he kinda sorta _winked_ at her.

And then after that, he couldn't stop looking at her.

He doesn't understand how someone can make surprise look so pretty. She froze, but somehow, he knew she was hot all over, just like he was. He just _did it,_ and it felt right too.

So what if she just… took it the wrong way?

_What's the right way, anyway?_

He pouts. Did she think he was just playing with her? Teasing her in a _bad_ way?

Before he can dive deeper into his personal dissection of that oversensitive brute of a girl, he hears footsteps approaching outside. He's at the front door before he even realizes he's moved.

A gust of frigid wind hits him square in the face, but he stays still. Arms crossed. And _pissed._

Her eyes go wide for a second before she chuckles lightly. "You scared me, Ranma. Sorry I took so long."

She bends down to take her boots off. He doesn't even blink as she removes her coat. Just continues to stare.

She's shivering. Of course she is. Because she just _had_ to not go home with him. _Alright._

Was she… _limping?_

"Could you let me pass, Ranma?" she says softly, and if he wasn't starting to fucking _fume,_ he would ease up.

He flares his nostrils as his eyes rake down her legs, finding one of them to be slightly bent, like she can't put pressure on it.

He drops down to his knees and grabs the back of hers, tugging her forward.

"Ah, _Ranma,_ what're you _doing?!"_ she cries, stumbling forward, but he steadies her right quick.

He lifts her leg slightly to get a closer look. Her tights are torn at the knee, a nasty scrape having broken the skin. The blood is half dried already from the cold. And there's a _lot_ of it.

He looks up at her, grip tight on her calf. "Are you _kidding_ me?"

She tears herself away and _hmphs._ "So _what?_ I fell. It's not a big deal."

"Well _maybe_ if you weren't so damn _stubborn_ and _clumsy…"_

"Do you think I _wanted_ it to happen? That my goal for today was to hurt myself? Please, Ranma, _spare me._ I'm _tired."_ She turns her nose in the air in that _arrogant_ way of hers and begins to walk off, but he only trails after her.

"Of _course_ you're tired. You wouldn't be so freaking _tired_ if you acted like a normal person and come home at a _reasonable time."_

He feels the stares of everyone in the living room. He thinks their fathers might be crying tears of joy. For what? Scolding her? _She should already know how to act by now!_

"You're _not_ my _father!_ Even _he_ doesn't complain this much! I had to do some important work, and it ended up taking longer than I thought! I'm _sooo_ sorry!" she bites back, turning to face everyone. "I'm gonna take a bath!"

"O-okay, Akane, I'll leave your dinner on the side, alright?" Kasumi says, trying to break the tension, but it does absolutely _nothing._

"And _clean_ that wound while you're at it! See if I care!" he calls after her as she hobbles up the stairs, not even turning to stick out her tongue.

So she's gonna ignore him now, _huh?_

No. He's _not_ having that.

He runs after her, skipping steps and barging into her room, where she immediately rolls her eyes at the sight of him.

_She's so fucking strange! Now she can't stand me again! I don't get it!_

"What's with the sudden attitude change? _Huh?"_ he barks, trying to close the distance between them only for her to back away.

" _Me?!_ What about _you?!"_ she yells. "Why are you so _upset?_ I've done this plenty of times before!"

He grinds his teeth together, fists clenching on either side.

What's he… how can he… what can he _say?_

Why _is_ he upset, exactly?

Except he actually knows. He just can't seem to tell her. He thinks he'd rather _die._

He scoffs. There's no point in dragging this. He turns back and grabs the doorknob. "Whatever, 'kane. Enjoy your bath."

He waits for a bit, just to see if she'll stop him. But she doesn't. He leaves.

* * *

_Stupid Ranma. Always acting like a freaking jerk._

She rubs at her eyes. No, she will _not_ cry. There is _no_ reason to cry over this.

Or maybe she's just getting her period. And everything is just _too much_ right now.

Especially him.

_Especially. Ranma._

Getting in her face. _Touching_ her like that. And _scolding_ her like he has any right to.

 _Ergh!_ The worst part is… she _liked_ it! Like some twisted individual! Seeing him so worried about her, it… it… _whew._

_Okay. Maybe I really am getting my period. How can I be this emotional over something so dumb?_

She hugs her knees to her chest and sighs, inspecting her wound. It looks a lot worse than it feels.

Okay, she's lying. But only because he had to go on and talk about how _clumsy_ she is… it's not her fault the ground was uneven! And that she happened to hit it with her foot and fall! She gently rinses it and hisses at the sting. This one is going to be a nasty scab.

Once she gets overheated, she decides to wash off properly, doing her absolute _best_ to ignore how sensitive her body feels. It's like she's vibrating with the strange energy from the inside out, and it's begging to be interacted with. But it feels like something she can't come back from. Something she's not ready to admit. Really, she might _never_ be.

She carefully dries herself off and puts her underwear on, something white with a little red rose. She'll dress her wound once it fully dries. She'd left her pajamas to warm on the radiator, and she can't wait to just eat and go to bed and sleep the next morning away. School and the weather and _whatever_ is happening between her and Ranma has left her exhausted in more ways than one. _That's what I get for caring, I guess._

She tightly wraps a towel around her and opens the door a crack, checking the hallway for anyone. Thankfully Happosai wasn't here to make her even more paranoid. She quietly pads across the wooden floor, leaving tiny imprints of her toes along the way. Her wet hair drips down her back. The heat she'd felt is fading fast, now.

She opens her bedroom door, soaking in the sight of the moonlight pouring prettily over her floor. It soothes her.

Gently, she walks inside, finally relaxing again.

Until she hears a _bang_ and then an _oof._

She spins to the direction of the sound, gripping her pounding heart. " _Who's there?"_ she calls as she searches for a weapon.

Then there's a presence at her back — she whips around, bat in hand, ready to _strike_ only to be caught by the wrist, forcing her to let go.

They're both breathing heavily. She doesn't understand why. He's so close, his nose nearly touching hers as his eyes bore into her _soul._

" _Ran-ma,"_ she whispers, voice cracking in the middle.

He blinks, like he doesn't even know why he's here. It's not like _she_ knows, either. "My bad, 'kane. I wasn't trying to scare ya."

His grip loosens, but he doesn't let go. So she makes him. She steps back, holding the towel close to her chest. " _Why_ are you here?"

"W-well, I, I, uhh…"

Her anger bursts. How can he always push her to the edge like this? "Were you trying to _spy_ on me again?"

" _No!_ I swear, I didn't even _know_ you weren't… dressed…" he trails off, looking more and more nervous.

And here he goes _again,_ never giving her a straight answer. All he ever does is _confuse_ her!

She squeezes her eyes shut and stands tall, trying to stifle the incoming onslaught of emotions. Is it always gonna be like this with him? Some vicious cycle of misunderstandings, of unspoken feelings, of pride winning over intimacy?

_What am I thinking of, now? What is this feeling?_

She tries her best. She really does. But the tears still come, trying to drop down like shards of ice in the unbearable heat between them.

 _How much longer can I take this? He can never just tell me what it is he's feeling… about me._ For _me._

And it's still doing so many things to her body. Making it _crave_ things she can't even name.

She scrunches her face, feeling it get red. _Oh, no._

"'kane, what's wrong?! Please, I wasn't trying to do anything weird, I swear!" he says, drawing closer but she pulls herself away almost violently.

"So what _were_ you trying to do, huh? Yell at me some more? Start another fight? You make no _sense,_ Ranma!"

"How don't _I_ make sense? Hey, tell me why you're _crying!"_

He grabs her wrists and forces her to look at him, but she is _not_ having it. She lifts one leg and shoves her foot into his side, pushing him off. "Don't _touch_ me."

"Why _not?"_ he seethes, giving into his own anger. "You're _my_ fiancée, aren't you? I'm not _hurting_ you, Akane!"

She laughs bitterly. "How exactly am I _yours, Ranma?" And how_ aren't _you hurting me?_

He _growls_ and she _gasps_ as he wraps his large hands around her wrists again, his hold even firmer than before. " _Do I really need to tell you?"_

He's looking at her the same way he did this morning. But it's… _more._ It's _more,_ and it's so much, too much, and it's like swallowing fire. Her skin is crackling with the heat of it. Her heart is ablaze. The syrup coats the lining of her insides, filling her like fuel so she can keep on _burning._

Her name sounds like smoke when it comes off his tongue. She can almost see it in the air between them, but his eyes are still crystal clear beyond it, heavy with emotions she's never learned about.

She reacts.

Outside of her own volition. She saw him lean in, just _slightly,_ and immediately, she had to _run._

She escapes his hold and _shoves_ him back hard by the chest towards the door, and scrambles towards her bed. "Ranma, _leave."_

He shakes his head, nostrils flaring. " _No,"_ he sneers, approaching her, and it _thrills_ her.

_What the hell is the matter with me?!_

She scrambles away from him, wondering if she wants to get away or get caught.

"I'm not going to _hurt you,"_ he says, the tiniest bit of _hurt_ slipping through his teeth and it stuns her for a second. Long enough for him to swoop in and grab her by her upper arms. " _Enough_ of this."

But she pulls her arms back and slams her forearms against his chest. She takes the opening and heads for the door, but before she can even touch the knob, he grabs her by the waist and _throws_ her onto the bed.

She's kicking and punching, only hitting air half the time, but it doesn't matter — he's stronger than her and she _hates_ it. She looks up at him with as much venom as she can muster, chin dropped to her chest, and he takes the chance to slide his hands up underneath her arms. He stops right before her elbows and pushes down once, like he's securing her in place.

He returns her stare. " _Stop."_

But it only makes her go again.

She manages to drive her heel into his back. He grunts and she smirks.

"Oh, _yeah?"_ he seethes.

She's not ready for it.

He hooks one leg over her hip, trapping her bad leg under his. She can feel the bottom of his thigh against the top of her own.

With her free leg, she tries to land another blow, but _somehow_ he pulls it straight against his torso, her ankle over his shoulder. But she can't give up — she squirms against him, tossing her foot to the side of his head until his teeth sink into her calf.

And he bites. _Hard._

Hard enough for her to cry out and still. She already feels the bruise forming. She writhes, hands slipping under her pillow and gripping it as she waits for the pain to ebb away.

"You… _bit_ me!" she cries, tears in the corners of her eyes. " _Ow!"_

That's… _enough. No more_ of this. She's not some wild animal that needs to be tamed!

So she musters all of her strength. Ready to _break free._

Until.

His hands are hot on hips.

When had her towel ridden up?

" _Ra—"_

It's all she manages to say before he presses his thumbs down into her stomach and _pushes_ the air out of her lungs.

She's left stunned. Stupid. Gaping at him in disbelief. The guilt in his eyes does nothing to bring her back.

But his gentle touch skimming over her skin does.

He cups her hips into his palms, squeezing gently. Then he runs his fingertips over them, across the low part of her belly, igniting, igniting, _igniting…_

"' _kane,"_ he breathes, the harshness of it flowing over her stomach.

_When had he gotten there?_

"R-relax…" he says, unsure, and she can do anything _but._

She's frozen. Paralyzed by overwhelm.

By how _good_ it all feels.

But… why? Why can't she… why does it _frighten_ her? How badly she _wants it?_

And just as his lips brush over her tummy, she _jolts_ back to life, grabbing the collar of his shirt and searching him with panicked eyes.

" _Ranma,"_ she says, voice shaking. "What. Are. You. _Doing?"_

Instantly, he's horrified. _Ashamed._

No. How does she erase it?

" _Ranma,_ " she breathes, smiling shakily. "No, it's _okay."_

He tilts his head, like a guilty, confused puppy. "Huh?"

She nods, rolling her lips together, trying to _breathe_ properly. She lets go of his shirt, bringing her knees to her chest.

Does he… _regret_ it?

She shuts her eyes. Chokes back the fresh tears. "Yeah," she says quietly. "Good night, Ranma."

For once, he takes the cue and leaves, but she doesn't watch him this time.

How can she be so happy and sad at the same time? So elated, yet hopeless?

How can she make this ache go away?

She shivers alone in her room, her only companion the winter moon.

* * *

It's looking like another sleepless night.

While his father snored away beside him, flat on his back as a panda, he blinks his burning eyes at the ceiling.

Each flash of the memory of her shocks him to the core, turning his stomach over and over in a way that he wishes wasn't so _pleasant._

How she fought with him. It's turned him on before, but never _that_ much.

How creamy and smooth her skin was. He can still feel the ghost of her full hips in his palms.

How she _looked_ at him. The way she's been looking at him lately, and all day today. Like she likes it, too.

A little _too_ much.

_There's no way she's not feeling what I am._

But then he thinks back to the tears in her eyes, and the doubt slaps him right in the face. He lifts his hands up and stares at them. _She knows I'd never really hurt her. Doesn't she?_

The guilt has been sitting in his gut like a brick underwater. He doesn't want to feel it. He's not really sure if he _should_ , but he does, and it keeps holding him back.

Holding him back from what, exactly? Giving into what his body craves?

_Why does my body crave you, Akane?_

And at just the thought of her name, he bites his lip as the heat of it shoots down.

_Oh, 'kane, baby._

He squeezes his eyes shut and shifts his hips, like he'll find the friction he _needs_ there.

_I can't do that to you when I'm not sure if my heart craves you, too._

Maybe it's all excuses. Maybe he's getting desperate again. Trying to avoid the best solution to his problems because it requires him being _weak._

Every part of him begs for rest. But his mind is cruel to him, playing over the prettiest things about her nonstop. Her tiny waist and the flare of her hips. The shape of her legs. How it tasted when he bit down.

God, he wants to bite her _everywhere._

What does that say about him?

He just wants to do things to her that he's not sure other human beings do. Does that make him the grossest pervert out there?

_At this rate, probably._

His lips twist into a frown. He slides his hand onto his stomach, remembering how hers felt. Definitely a lot softer than his.

The little pocket of fat, right below her cute little belly button. He doesn't have that. He's noticed that on girls. He always thought it looked nice. But on _her,_ it looked…

He doesn't know. He doesn't even _know._ He just wants to touch it, bite it, kiss—

_Kiss._

A blush rises to his cheeks.

He was about to _kiss her._

_How much of a dumbass can I be?_

Why is she making him lose control? What exactly is she _doing_ to him?

He can't escape her _anywhere._ She's always around. They're always gravitating towards each other, no matter what. Maybe he should've savored it when she was gone!

But even then, she was still in his head.

And now he hasn't been able to sleep for days because all he dreams about is _her._

Doing what must be _illegal_ things to him.

He exhales harshly, embarrassed at how sensitive he's become to _everything_ about her.

His brain conjures up the dirtiest things. Things he never once admitted to himself he wanted to do to her. And he pays the price for it every time he wakes in a sweat, his dick throbbing and _begging_ for her.

He groans and slips his hand down over his boxers, squeezing himself fully. If only it were her touching him. _If only_.

Her underwear… was so _cute._

He groans again and rubs himself once, twice, so hard and he keeps the pressure, trying to even his breath.

_No. No, I can't do it… like this…_

Not when he wasn't sure how she felt.

_Fuck._

He scrubs his face harshly, cursing his own existence. Can't he catch a fucking break?!

Maybe he's just meant to suffer.

 _And it's all_ her _fault._

But that's a lie. A dirty, filthy, obvious lie. He exhales. She'll be haunting his dreams tonight, anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

She had woken up as uneasy as she fell asleep. There's been a heavy knot in her stomach since last night, and she has no idea how to undo it.

Yet it feels right, having the feeling there. Almost a painful pleasure that's keeping her skin tingling and chest fluttering, keeping her anchored to the ground so that when she has to witness _him_ again, she won't feel like running away.

Breakfast was filled with talks of plans for the day — it seemed like everyone else had something to do for the weekend except for her. Go figure. Whatever, she'd have some time to practice her cooking in peace!

And then the softened voice of his… curling around her… and somehow, she found the strength to not react. She barely looked his way. Even when he talked to her directly, trying to get a rise out of her. She took it all with a smile. And all she got back was his stare burning into the side of her face.

 _What's he so angry for, anyway?_ She scrubs at the dirty dish harder. _That I want to pretend like nothing happened? I'm doing us both a favor!_

And it's true, isn't it? It's not that she… _hated_ what happened last night.

It's that… it doesn't feel like something they're ready to talk about.

She sure isn't.

Her belly fills with butterflies and she gasps as the memory of his touch trails over it.

_He touched me so good._

She shakes her head violently. _What! Am I thinking?!_

" _Ergh!"_ she growls loudly, gripping the same dish tightly in both her hands. " _Quit it!"_

"Quit what?"

Why does his voice sound so smooth and deep and _ugh!_ She freezes for a moment, shivering as the sound of him washes over her. Okay, this is actually getting _ridiculous._

"This stain won't come out," she says, forcing her voice to stay strong and even, scrubbing at the plate again.

She can't be imagining things — he's coming closer. The irritation is rolling off of him in waves. It's only them alone in the house now. Did everyone _have_ to leave right after breakfast?

After a long stretch of silence, he breaks it with a tense chuckle. "Don't break anything, Akane."

She freezes. The fact that he said her name… like _that…_ he _has_ to know what he does to her. There's no way he can't see how still she is right now.

What is she expecting? What does she want? She can practically feel his body heat, no matter the distance. Why does she want him to get even closer?

_Why doesn't it scare me like it used to?_

Maybe he opened the door she locked up the day she met him when he touched her body. Maybe he found the key on her bedroom floor somewhere.

Even his temperature is so familiar, so distinct and coating her — she must have gotten used to it all that time ago.

He hovers behind her. So close. Not close enough.

She doesn't dare to move, or at least she tries not to. Her breath is so heavy that it's shaking her body up slowly. Anticipating his furthering presence. The hot water runs over her hands. Even if it burned, she doesn't think she'd move away.

His chest grazes her back. _Mmm._ Her eyelids flutter.

He chuckles. "Sorry," he breathes onto her temple as his hand slides onto the dip of her waist, to her stomach, then back again and _oh._

" _W-why?"_ she stutters, licking her dry lips. His grip goes tighter for just a split second and she nearly _moans._

"Just… had to get something."

And then he's closing the cabinet above her head, holding a box in his hand.

She blinks stupidly up at it, like he took her ability to form thoughts and come to reasonable conclusions when he let her go.

When did he let her go? She's so _lost._

"Been saving these for awhile!" he says, shaking the snack in front of her face.

And contrary to the cheerful tone in his voice, he's smirking like the _jerk_ that he is, and it all goes downhill from there.

Why would she think he was trying to do anything except to toy with her?

She grits her teeth and turns away, rinsing the plate and practically slamming it onto the dish rack. He laughs behind her.

"You feeling alright, Akane?" he _mocks_ her, dragging her name along like he always seems to do with _her._

She doesn't answer him. She doesn't want to. She nearly shatters the cup she washes next with her grip on it.

"So, you _really_ having no plans to—"

"If you're not gonna do anything, get lost," she says coldly.

She drowns him out, but he's always so loud in her ears, in her sight. Even when he's extinguished her. "Hey."

She shakes her head, dismissing him. Her vision is starting to tunnel onto her working hands. The crease between her brows feels like it's growing permanent.

"Hey, look at me?"

She grunts, shaking her head even harder. But he still doesn't take the freaking hint. His hand covers her shoulder. "Akane…"

" _Don't_ touch me," she growls, ripping her body away from him. Again, he's making her say this? _Unbelievable!_

Only one more dish and she can get away from him — she washes it quick before drying the counter and getting away as fast as she possibly can.

"Don't try and run away again," he says, blocking her way.

"You're _kidding_ me, _right?"_ He always _says something_ that drives her _nuts!_ He must be delusional!

He quirks one thick brow, not breaking his stoic expression. "Does it look like I am?"

She tries to step around him, again and again, but for some reason, she always hopes that she's gotten faster than him somehow, _stronger._ But it's never the truth, and she _hates it._

And she _hates him_ right now. Looking at her like that, like he's ready to attack any second, ready to hold her down…

She backs up and he follows until she's against the wall. "Why do you think it's okay to treat me this way?" she says under her breath, emotion seeping through the anger, the way she doesn't want it to, because he pulls her to either end with no effort at all and it just _pours out._

He tilts his head, brows furrowed. "What?"

She gathers her breath. "Why do you play with me like I'm some _doll,_ Ranma?!"

He blinks in surprise, taken aback. She takes the chance to slink away and start to run out of the kitchen. But before she can leave, he grabs her roughly by her upper arm and pulls her back to his chest.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he says low, head dipped so that it's levelled with hers.

The back of her head hits his shoulder with how hard she turns to face him. She scoffs in disbelief, staring up at him in fury. "You know _exactly_ what you're doing! Hands off of me! I can't _stand_ you, you _jackass!"_

But her struggle only keeps her chained to him. He grabs both of her arms by the insides of her elbows and holds them back to either side of him.

She growls, but it only makes him sink his fingers into her flesh, and she hisses.

"You are seriously so _dumb_ sometimes, it's amazing," he sneers.

Some noise of pure frustration escapes her, and it sets her body off. She writhes against him, trying to shake him off only for his vice grip to pierce her even harder. But it's not until she _throws_ her body back against his that he hisses and forces her still.

What was that… at her lower back? The possibility makes her face heat up for a new reason.

"Fuckin' _stop it,_ 'kane," he curses, voice rough.

She pants, arching her back away from him. "I don't want this. Let me go already."

She doesn't know why it's so, but the guilt immediately hits her. Why does it feel so wrong to say, especially when she's been meaner? When he's been far worse to her? Did her words hurt him just now? She doesn't want to believe so. But she can't ask. She can only stay still and wait patiently for him to release her.

After a long pause, he sighs heavily, like he'd been holding his breath since she's spoken. His grip goes looser, but he doesn't yet let go. And she doesn't move.

"The fact that… you're the clumsiest, most naive, most ungraceful, uncutest girl I know…"

She scrunches her face in rage and disgust. Is he checking off a mental list? Is he reminding her _again_ of how undesirable she is, rubbing it in her _face?!_

She's about to _stomp_ down on his foot and _never speak_ to him again, but he lets her go and lets his hands wrap around her waist so gently that it takes her somewhere where everything's made of exploding stars and clouds. Her stomach flips and it doesn't stop.

He doesn't know if his hands are just that large, or if she's just that small. She looks down and finds his fingers touching on either side of her stomach, above her belly button. His thumbs rest on either side of her spine. She can't help but melt. Even when he's so _mean._

The power he has over her is actually dangerous.

His lips brush against the shell of her ear and she feels it _all over._ "And I still… I still… w-want…"

But he cuts himself off, and it leaves her guessing.

Why can't he ever just _say it?_

Her anger doesn't dissipate, but it settles. Her heart beats a new rhythm, one so harsh as it pounds with life, the same heartbeat of his that she feels against her back.

He sighs in frustration. Her face twists with the pain of it. For the moment, she understands.

But then she doubts herself. Like she always does.

She doesn't know his truth. What it is he feels for her. The reason he holds her like this.

Like he wants her. Needs her. Close, even when they're tempted to tear each other a part.

But it's too much for her heart. Isn't it? She can't live like this. Always on edge. Addicted to him and what he does to her.

Or maybe it's all the things he won't do that she's obsessed with. When it comes to her, he's a master of holding himself back.

_So what does that make me?_

Maybe she's as much of a coward as he is. But is she the one to blame?

There's too many things she doesn't know.

And it pisses her off. How she tries to protect herself, and he takes it the wrong way. How she barely has any self-control when he's around. How his actions don't match his words. How she doesn't know of everything he tells her, with or without words, what is true.

Yet she always craves more. No, they're just a few reasons why she does.

He rubs his thumbs into her back. It draws a quiet moan out of her. Her cheeks go redder from the embarrassment of it.

"Ranma," she says, voice nearly cracking.

"Y'know, I… can't stand ya _either,"_ he says halfheartedly.

Then why… then _why…_

She breaks free and grabs the box he'd gotten just a few minutes before. She shakes her head, laughing in her barely restrained anger.

"I don't think that's the case with you, _Ranma_ ," she says, throwing the box right smack in his face. She escapes, wishing she'd choke on her tears instead of shedding them.

* * *

Yeah, he kinda lost his cool because she was ignoring him. So what? She didn't have to be so damn difficult. Or sensitive.

Or so fucking _cute._

And now she's mad again. Well, she was mad already, wasn't she? But it didn't seem that way… more like she was… who even _knows?_ That's what set him off, made him _need_ her reaction. For them to be on the same playing ground.

Angry is normal. Angry is safe.

Better than the weird limbo she put him in not even a day ago. He still doesn't know what to make of last night or a couple hours ago. Why he still feels guilty when she treats him like he always does her wrong.

And then talks to him like she wants absolutely _nothing_ to do with him!

He looks down at his hands. He can still feel the warmth of her waist on them. How small she felt, just like the first time he ever held her wrists. Whenever he's reminded of how delicate she is, how… _feminine._

It does _things_ to him.

And seeing her like that, doing something as simple as the dishes, wearing something as bland as a skirt. So focused and unbothered on her task. _Not_ talking or touching or _thinking_ about him.

He clenches his jaw and his fists. She has _no right_ to always be in his head, and then not think about _him._ That's what she gets for not… _ugh._

He slumps forward, groaning as he places his head on his knees. Why's he acting like some egotistical bastard?

Akane'd say it's 'cause he _is._

And as much as fighting with her energizes him… turns him the hell on… he misses the moments when she smiles at him.

Okay. _Maybe_ he can swallow his pride just to get that back.

He's done enough mulling around in his room. He heads to the kitchen, finding it the same way he left it. He peaks into the family room to see if she magically appeared, but it's empty. She must be in the dojo then…

As he comes closer, he hears her.

And someone else.

His blood goes hot, searing his veins. Who the _hell_ is alone with her?!

He tiptoes to the door, pulling it slightly open without a sound, and peers inside.

She's… training. Alone.

But _no._ He definitely heard someone else. A _guy._ He wants to storm in there and take her away before anything can happen. _No one_ should be here, without him knowing, alone with her! He barely contains a growl as he thinks about someone else… _touching_ her.

 _What the fuck has gotten into me?_ But he's too far gone, too lost in the feeling. He never liked it when she wasn't by his side, anyway.

She stands still, taking in a deep breath before getting into position.

Then a leg separates hers further… and he recognizes his pants.

He's gonna kick his _ass._

But he doesn't move yet. He wants to see how she reacts to Ryoga. If… if she… _likes_ it when he touches her, too.

The possibility makes his heart drop.

He opens the door just a bit more, unable to look away as Ryoga gets behind her.

Slips his hands onto her hips.

Says something in her ear.

 _When did that_ motherfucker _get so_ bold?

He's throwing punches before he can even _process_ it, only landing one into what he thinks might be Ryoga's shoulder. He wants to get that lost fucker in the _face_ but he's _quick, so damn quick,_ and he's _wild,_ sweeping his leg across the air and _missing._

" _Ryoga,"_ he growls, sliding across to the other end of the dojo and flinging his arm back, ready to _blow._

The fucker _ducks_ and rolls around him, backing up into defense. "Ranma, what is _wrong_ with you?" he pants. Good. _Let him_ get worn out. He can keep going.

She says his name, but the pounding of blood in his ears makes it sound far away. He bares his teeth. "What the _hell_ are you doing here?" he barks.

" _Ranma,"_ Akane shouts behind him, sounding scared _and_ pissed. "He was just helping me train!"

"That's not what I _asked,"_ he snarls, his eyes locked on Ryoga's.

"I just ended up here, Ranma. You know how that happens," Ryoga says. And he says it like he's _insane_ and he needs to calm down, but it only pisses him off _more_ and _ooo_ he can't wait to _beat_ his ass.

He pounces.

He's in the air. Until he's not.

Something catches onto his leg and he goes crashing down, straight onto his face. He shoots right back up, staring daggers into Ryoga, but he's even further away than before.

"What the fuck?" he mumbles, confusion overriding his anger.

Bare feet pad over in front of him.

"Ranma." Her voice is ice.

He looks up at her, fists on the floor. " _What?"_

He can't help the way it comes out all wrong. But if she can be mad at him for no reason, why can't _he?_

She puts her hands on her hips. The same hips that he touched, the same ones _Ryoga_ touched, and then he's flaring up again, shooting up onto his feet and getting in her face.

"So you just let any guy _touch you,_ huh, Akane?"

He's never been slapped so hard.

He's never had the nerve slapped out of him like this, either.

The sound seems to echo. So does the pain of her palm on his cheek. He feels all his blood rush to it. And then all he sees is Akane taking Ryoga by the arm and pulling him away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for your kind words & support! ❤️🌹

She didn't talk to Ranma for the rest of the weekend, and he made no attempt to talk to her, either.

It's not that she doesn't miss him. Or even that she's too mad at him to pay him any mind. She tried to look at him, but she found that she simply can't. She felt his guilty eyes brush past her countless times, and she wanted to give in. Wanted to pretend that none of whatever has been going on between them happened.

But when has she ever been the type of girl to forgive and forget?

She'd woken up earlier than usual this morning. She asked Kasumi to wake him up a little later and headed out, hoping he'd take the hint and leave her alone.

The air, cool and crisp, floats around her. It feels refreshing on her prickly skin, like her thoughts left her overheated from the inside out.

Ranma has been protective over her many times before. Possessive, jealous, arrogant, and territorial in a way that always left her breathless and wondering, _is this even real?_

But the thing is, nothing ever came of those instances. Nothing… major, at least.

 _But all those little things… they built up to_ this, _didn't they?_

She always felt a spark when it came to Ranma. Yet she couldn't wrap her head around the fact that he felt it, too.

_The way he jumped at Ryoga the other night was scary._

It was totally unnecessary and unprovoked.

And that's what's been turning her insides inside out — the possibility that… that he…

That he what?

She can't call it anything. All she knows is that it has her calling for divine intervention. That it's threatening to drag her to him and attach herself to him when her first instinct has been running wild and screeching, _run away and don't look back._

How can something feel so _ugly_ yet undeniably… _warm?_

She's burning up… melting… despite the frigid wind she inhales.

The morning goes on, because time has always been her best friend, the way he runs late on it. He barely makes it to homeroom and she barely watches him from the corner of her eye, ignoring the sting his stare sends into her body. And when he purposefully walks past her desk, the side of his leg brushing her shoulder, it tingles for the rest of the day when she remembers it.

She remembers it every other minute or so.

And during lunch, she can only take a bite of her food because the butterflies filled her stomach to the brim. She fought the temptation to turn his way, especially when his voice rings out above everyone else, his laugh loud and obnoxious — but when he quiets down, the fear keeps her from forgoing the conversation with her friends.

But for the one time she tries to sneak a glance at him, some time near the end of the day, she's cursed. Because he was already looking.

No one has ever looked at her this way. _No one._

Like he's dreaming about her when they're both awake and she's right there. Her mouth had gone dry — an ocean of magma pooled slowly in her belly. His thick brows lowered over his darkened eyes. It's only when he twitches slightly that he gives himself away. How exhausted he is.

Did he really regret what he did? Did it keep him

up last night?

The spell had broken with the sound of the bell.

And now she walks slowly down the hall, proving to be a bigger coward than he could ever be. She's avoiding him — she doesn't think she could stand walking home with him. He's doing things to her she can't comprehend. And as the last of the crowd of students files out, she turns the corner and hears her gasp echo.

There he is. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed like he's _mad._

She freezes, her brain malfunctioning despite the very strong urge to run, run, _run_ away.

But when did anything ever go her way? One step back and his head snaps in her direction, blinking in surprise before dropping his expression to something that looks dangerously close to disappointment.

Her heart stutters. She wants to run home and lock herself in her room.

She wants to close the distance between them and take a chance.

But unlike herself — or maybe, deep down, this has always been her — she does neither.

He's walking to her before she can even _breathe._

"Akane," he rumbles, hands in his pockets.

She gulps, blinking her wide eyes slowly as he stares her down the same way he did not too long ago. She has to dip her head back to look at him. She feels small in a way that he could just… _eat_ her and she can't do anything about it.

She forms his name in her mouth, tries to say it out loud, but it's only air.

"Akane," he says again, towering over her. He bends down a bit, inching his face closer to hers.

"Y-y-yes?" she whispers, just as his lips twist into a frown. " _What's wrong?_ " she says in a rush.

His eyes are all droopy and dazed, all of a sudden! And he's slouching over even more!

"Ranma!" Her stomach turns with worry. Before she can think, she slips her hands onto his face, one cradling his cheek while the other presses against his forehead. "Hey, what's the matter?"

A dopey smile stretches his lips. Her eyes widen even more as he blinks lazily. She runs her thumb across his cheek. "Hey… Ranma, talk to me, please?" she pleads quietly.

He leans into her palm, eyes sliding shut. "' _kaaaaa—_ ne," is all he says before his head lands on her shoulder.

Her hand slides to the side of his neck while the other pushes at his shoulder, trying to get him back upright, but he won't budge! Yet he's moving around on top of her! Her skin prickles with heat — is he… is he…

Nuzzling into her _neck?_

He hums, and she feels it _vibrate_ all over. A chill goes down her spine — though it's less of a chill and more of too many fireworks going off at once and depriving her of functioning _thoughts!_

She _squeaks_ as he inhales deeply, his lips brushing against her skin. _Oh my freaking god._ " _Mmm…_ 'kane…" he sighs, the heat of it singing her. "Smell good, 'kane…"

She's not breathing. Or maybe she's breathing so much that she can't tell the difference between her inhales and exhales because she is actually _hyperventilating._ Nobody should be this temperature. She's being cooked alive, and apparently she _smells good_ as it's happening?!

She's not losing control — she already _lost it._

Because the hand on his neck is pressing down and her fingers are sliding into his hair and _keeping_ him there.

_AAAAHHHHHHH!_

She's stuttering — what the _hell_ is she even trying to say?!

But then he's saying her name and it… it punctures her heart with swords and it… why does he sound so… _sad?_

It calms her, humbles her instantly. He needs her, doesn't he?

_Poor Ranma… my poor baby. What's the matter?_

Gently, she lifts his head, cradling either side of his face. The tips of their noses brush. She looks up at him, her chest swelling as he pouts with sad, sad eyes.

_That puppy look again…_

The day she resists that look is the day she becomes heartless.

There's a certain calm that arises as they look at each other.

Only to be broken by… quite possibly, the _loudest_ growling she has ever heard in her life.

His face gives it away — he's blushing and she's _laughing_ before she can stop herself, tears coming to her eyes.

"You were just _hungry?"_ she says between gasps, letting him go to clutch at her stomach.

After a beat, he responds with a weak, "... _maybe."_

She beams up at him, feeling lighter than she has all day. She wraps her fingers around his wrist and tugs it gently. "C'mon. I didn't eat my lunch today," she says as she leads him into the classroom right next to them, leaving the lights off. She guides him to an empty chair towards the back of the room and sits in front of him, taking her bento out of her bag and untying it.

"Did you forget your lunch today?" she asks nicely.

"N-n… I, uh…" he sighs.

"It's okay," she smiles sweetly. "Eat first."

She takes one gyoza and brings it to his lips, holding her hand beneath the chopsticks. He blinks in surprise, hesitating before taking a bite.

" _Mmm,"_ he bites into the rest. "'s good."

She takes some rice with vegetables and hums as he meets her halfway. "You think so?"

" _Mhm."_ He swallows and leans forward, his mouth parted as he nods at the gyoza. "More, please."

She rolls her eyes and does as he asked oh so nicely, more than pleased that he enjoys her food so much. She really _has_ improved, hasn't she? It didn't _look_ the most aesthetically pleasing, but still, she put her all into it!

And to have him so blissed out over it, savoring the taste with closed eyes and a smile on his face — she'd feed him for the rest of his life, if that's what he wanted.

_Is that really what I want?_

Her cheeks zing with the implication. She must be losing her mind…

_Or am I?_

Warm hands cover her own. She shakes her head and lets them bring her back to reality, which is his handsome face smiling easily at her. "I got it from here. Thanks," he says, gently taking the bento and chopsticks out of her hands.

She crosses her legs and her arms awkwardly, looking down at the floor as she smiles in embarrassment. "It's nothing. I didn't really have an appetite today…"

It takes her a moment to realize he stopped eating. Cautiously, she looks back up, finding him staring down at his food. "Y'know, it's funny, Akane. 'Cause I didn't, either…"

"O-oh." She uncrosses her legs and presses her feet together, swinging them slightly. "How come?"

He shakes his head and chuckles. "...I just can't act like nothing's wrong when you're not even lookin' at me, y'know?" he says after a pause, his words careful and considered, more than she ever expected to hear from him.

He doesn't look at her, and it almost feels like he's confessing all of his sins, the way he looks so _embarrassed._ She holds a hand to her mouth as if it were the case.

He blinks sleepily. She leans forward. "You still haven't slept either?" When he doesn't answer, she tugs on his hand. "Ranma."

He shakes his head. "Nah," he shoves another mouthful of rice into his mouth, "'aven' been."

 _Again,_ he's not taking care of himself! She stands abruptly, planting her fists on her hips. "Are you serious!"

He swallows, nearly choking. "Umm… _yeah."_

She groans in frustration. Has everything just gone _backwards?_ He can't keep on doing this to himself!

"You _better_ go to sleep tonight!" she exclaims, stomping her foot.

He holds his hands up. " _Woah,_ what's this about?"

She huffs, sitting back down. She shuts her eyes and turns her face away. "Do you think I like seeing you this way?"

He laughs, and she whips around to face him. "What's so funny!?"

He chews on another bite of food obnoxiously. "I mean, it's all your fault, isn't it?"

She clutches her chest. "W- _what?_ How is it _my_ fault?!"

"'Cause," he swallows. "You were being petty and _ignoring_ me."

"And _you_ were being your usual arrogant _self!"_ She growls. " _Ugh!_ I should've left when I saw you!"

"Oh _yeah?"_ He inches closer, leveling his face with hers. "And I shoulda left you and Ryoga _alone!"_

She stares at him in shock, unable to catch her breath. What's this charge in the air between them? Where whatever they just said feels like a lie?

Did she make him feel… that _bad?_

"W-what exactly did you think was going to happen, Ranma?" she asks softly.

He turns quickly. "Nothin'. Forget it."

God, why is he always so _confusing?!_

"Ranma…"

He looks up at her, expression completely neutral. "Yes?"

"I don't want to."

He scoffs. "It's better if you just drop it."

"I just don't understand…"

He stands up. "I don't wanna hear this. Let's go h—"

"Why do you think I'd do anything with someone who isn't you?"

She hears his breath catch. At the words that had clumsily tumbled out of her mouth… what is she even _saying_ anymore? What exactly are they talking about?

 _More like, what_ aren't _we talking about?_

She stares down at her lap for a moment before shaking her head and gathering her things. "You're right. Let's just forget it."

"Akane…"

"C'mon, I wanna get home in time for dinner."

"Hey, what I—"

"Why are you changing your mind now!?" She sighs in frustration, using the silence to button up her jacket.

He stares dumbly at her. "But I—" he cuts himself off with a huff. "Okay. Alright."

" _Fine,"_ she mumbles to herself, letting the sea of emotions drag her away from him. Yet he catches up in no time, hanging right by her side the whole way home. The gloomy sky keeps their silence.

* * *

What right does she have to deprive him of his appetite? His _sleep?!_

That's what he's been asking himself — he doesn't know the answer somewhere, deep down. Absolutely not.

Why would he?

And why did she have to go on and be all _distant_ then nervous then so freakin' _nice_ back to being this… overly defensive, sensitive, annoying _brute_ of a girl!

He side-eyes her at the dinner table, his bowl covering half his face.

She just smiles at him.

What was the problem again?

_Get a fuckin' hold of yourself, Saotome!_

" _Ergh,"_ he growls, grinding his teeth together.

A piece of fish lands in his bowl. He looks over at Akane, who nudges his foot with hers. "Clearly, you need to make up for all that time you spent _not_ eating."

He hears his father laugh and make a comment. But what he actually says flies right over his head. Someone else says something — Nabiki? It's right there in his ear. But all he can hear, see, _feel,_ is Akane.

The girl that's been driving him _crazy_ for the past two years of his life. The girl who he drove even crazier right back because he can never resist it. The girl who stayed by his side, anyway.

The girl who always calls him out when he fucks up, who never lets him give up, who fights for him, cares for him, cooks for him, and now she's given him half her dinner out of nowhere just 'cause she knows he's hungry.

He's going to fucking _explode._

 _What the actual_ fuck _is this mushy feeling? Why do I always feel it when I look at her?! I'm_ sick _of this shit!_

He _shovels_ the rest of his food into his mouth and drinks his tea with an obnoxiously loud slurp. He slams the dishes down on the table, now silent as all eyes lay on him.

But since _her_ eyes are so damn big, it's like, another three extra pairs, or something. And it's all he really _feels_ as he slaps his chest and burps.

"Ew," Nabiki deadpans.

"Oh, Ranma…" Kasumi clucks her tongue.

"You… are… _so…"_

He waits for it.

" _GROSS!"_

Hm. He was expecting a kick, at least.

Is it weird that he kinda misses it?

He stands and bows. "Thank you for the dinner, Kasumi."

"Oh, my…"

And then he marches off, back straight as a ruler as he heads to his room.

And once he does, he crumples to the floor, _horrified._

 _Everything she does… turns me the hell_ on!

He can _barely_ control himself around her anymore! His guts are still in _knots_ and his blood is rushing _down_ and _oh,_ when she freakin' _touched him with her foot—_

He opens his mouth in a silent scream, hunching over. When has he ever been this… _weak?!_

And the worst part is, he can _barely_ keep himself away from her!

" _AUGH!"_ he yells out, something garbled and strangled and purely from pain. " _Why?"_ he mouths. " _WHY?"_

The door creaks slightly, and in an instant, he's on his feet, completely alert. And then, a light oinking sound…

He feels actual flames burst around him. His eyes meet the too-big eyes of the little boar on the floor, shaking…

The way Ryoga touched _his_ Akane… it flashes back in his mind.

" _Leave."_

P-Chan growls.

And with the help of his foot, the pig is flying out the window, meeting the stars in the sky.

 _You can't hide it anymore,_ a voice in his head says.

" _Hmph!"_ He plops down on the floor, legs crossed. "Watch me."

_And what am I hiding from, exactly?_

A familiar heat washes through him. Her smile. Her hands on his face, his neck. The way she smelled so fresh and sweet, like laundry and sugar cookies and flower petals and —

The ghost of her touch lingers on his forehead. She was so worried…

How could he act like such an _idiot?_

"I am _officially losing_ it," he mutters to himself, rubbing his hands over his face. " _Ugh…_ need to calm down…"

" _Why do you think I'd do anything with someone who isn't you?"_

God, what did she mean by that?

_You know what she meant._

Does he?

_She looked so disappointed… I just don't know how to use my words right, Akane…_

He sighs heavily, forcing himself to his feet. There's one thing that's always there to clear his mind.

He heads straight to the dojo, throwing himself into his routine until he gets lost in it. He meditates on it. Feels the knots untie and the stress melt out of his body.

He drags himself to the bathtub after, practically dead from how hard he pushed himself. He nearly falls asleep in the hot water.

He dries off and dresses into his pajamas and tank top. It's better if he heads to bed early tonight.

But when he's padding down the hallway, he sees a door, opened just a crack. And without thought, he walks to it, peering inside.

She looks up from her books once her door creaks, and he gulps. She rolls her eyes and turns back to them. "Don't bother me right now, I'm studying. We got exams coming up, y'know."

Not like he gives a shit. Something else caught his eye. And it chokes his nerves out, leaves them somewhere to die.

He switches the lights off, wanting to recreate the night before. His palms and fingertips are aching to touch her. She cries out but he only moves forward.

"Turn them back on! Stop being annoying!" she yells, standing from her chair and puffing her chest out, fists on either side. His eyes rake down her exposed skin.

Did she leave her top unbuttoned on purpose? He never thought her pajamas were _sexy,_ but right now… holy _shit,_ he's not even thinking _thoughts._ Just images flooding his brain, everything he wants to do to her _right now…_

He bends his neck down, his bangs brushing her forehead. He can see her bra, the part that sits prettily between her breasts, her ivory skin getting splotchy in that delicious way that makes him want to lick it like it's candy. Her breath catches and he'd smirk if it didn't go straight down to his dick.

He licks his lips, so tantalized, vision glazed over like all sweets she tries to make. He wants to eat her. And he doesn't care anymore that it shows.

"R-Ranma…" is all she whispers in the dark before he closes his body in.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for your support, and sorry for the wait! im wishing you all a happy & healthy new year!! i hope you enjoyyy 😉🌹♥️

Hypnotized. She's falling away from grace and the worst part is, she's letting it happen.

Because the world around them doesn't turn with them. They're always fighting the current, either going too fast or too slow — she's never realized this until time and her breath stopped at this exact moment. There's no single emotion she can name.

None except for desire.

This sudden desire to drown, collapse, indulge, slide down the earth and let it take her where it wants her to go.

_Fall into him._

Even in the dark, he's all she sees.

And she shouldn't risk closing him off, _oh, I want this, don't I?_ but the silence is so heavy on her, shoulders stiff and collarbones ready to crack from the weight.

The look in his eyes is incredible. _I deserve this?_ Her whole body reverberates and hums with these sick flames of a fire. _I deserve to be looked at in this way?_

She shouldn't. But she does.

"Rah—" her voice trips over her tongue, " _Ran-muh!"_ An air of a scream.

In spite of this… this _older_ look of his, his beautiful brows furrowed over his beautiful eyes, he stops, chest to chest, _breathless._

"Shu-shut _up."_ And it sounds so strange — it's so low, so heartless, but it sounds like he's _begging._

His voice ringing in her head, then. _Don't say it out loud. Don't make it real._

" _O-oh…_ " she breathes, afraid to lift her hand to her mouth. To break something. Herself, him, time, _anything._ Everything's so _thick_ and fragile, it could topple over and come crashing down if she… if she doesn't… if, if, if… _oh._

Leaning in… he's leaning in, she's not ready for it, her heart hurts from how hard it's _beating_.

She _gasps_ and cranes her neck at the same time his swerves to the side, his nose grazing the top of her cheekbone. The feeling falls like stardust, like dying fireworks down her whole entire being.

Her parted mouth, his own breath fanning over her skin like a cloud, running like an electric wire down her neck. She feels so soft everywhere. Like she's his and she can't even fight it.

She wants to ask. If he feels the same.

If he's as terrified as she is of what she wants. The enormity of her desire. If he has it, too. If it's also splitting him apart. If he also feels like he's not meant to carry something like this inside.

But she knows the answer — you don't need your own mirror to tell you the truth. It never fails to show you.

His eyes, blown over, burn into hers. No coldness of the night, no coolness of the silver moonlight could smother the blaze.

His lips graze her throat, and it stings like a scrape from concrete. And they go down the column, not — not _kisses,_ but something close, something that could be, and on her skin, all she feels is the way his lips tremble.

She presses the pads of her fingers into his biceps. It stills him, breath heavy and slow right under her collarbone. He had to dip his head to get there. She feels bad to keep him in place, so she unsticks her shaking hands from his arms and slides them onto his shoulders, fingers nearly under the straps of his tank top.

"I—" she nods dumbly, mouth dry. He's not looking at her. She inhales deeply from her belly and licks her lips. What can she say? How can she make it not feel so scary anymore? The answer comes crashing as a tidal wave from her throat.

"God, act like a _man, Ranma!"_ her exclamation shakes as it covers the sound of their heavy breath. "You're _so—"_

But she doesn't need to say another word, because whatever nonsense she was ready to spew spilled into a sharp _huh!_

He shakes the noise roughly out of her as his hands slide into her pajamas, into the sides of her underwear, so _hot oh my god so hot_ and _yanking_ her forward by the fabric, hips aligned with hers somehow and palms melting on her hips, gripping her so tight, she wants the bruises, doesn't she? _Don't I? I really don't mind?_

He drives his forehead into hers, and she's bending back a bit with the force, her vision on his. The darkness in his eyes kills and resurrects her, and she doesn't get it. She'll never _understand it,_ not one bit, but it's what he does to her and despite the terror she feels at the prospect of _falling,_ she thinks she is.

_Falling… for him?_

She stares at him with wide eyes, so vulnerable that she can't even _move._

_I want to fall… into him._

"C—" she doesn't trust her weak voice, but she goes on, anyway, "c-c' _mon._ "

_Do I? Do I? Do I?_

But he still stares so intensely, and she can't believe it's him holding her like this. So intimately. Maturely.

_Manly._

" _Mmm,"_ she whimpers as a warm shock floods her system.

He squeezes his eyes shut. Squeezes her. " _Fuck."_

Drags her to her bed and sits her right on his lap.

She's dying.

Her top slips off one shoulder, and he clenches his jaw at the sight. It stirs something inside of her. If she weren't so… _on,_ she'd smile.

He holds the base of her skull with his whole hand, eyes like dark blue magma melting her alive. " _Tell me you want it."_

And she understands it. A question disguised as a demand, barely held together with the tinge of desperation that cracks his voice. He's just as afraid as she is. If not, more.

Her heart is melting into liquid. She feels her pulse like a weight wherever they touch. Wherever they meet, it's ruining her.

His eyelids flutter, like he can't take it anymore. What does he want to do to her?

She'd rather feel it than hear it.

She nods slowly, then recklessly, inhaling shakily, heaving. Waits for him to look back up, and nearly mewls when the length of his fingers slide onto her lower back. He leans in, chin grazing her chest as he looks up, something like pain in his eyes. She frowns slightly, like she's ready to cry if he is, but he only sighs.

She adores him like this.

"I want it," is all she whispers. All she needs to.

He pulls at either side of her shirt, buttons flying off as the fabric slips down her arms. " _Hey!"_ she cries, crossing her arms over her chest.

" _Shut up,"_ he rasps.

Whatever argument she has dies with his hands pulling her arms down by the wrists and sinking his teeth into her breast.

" _Ah!"_ she gasps, writhing over him, only for him to buck up against her.

"' _kane,"_ he says, a warning, a plea, she doesn't know this time. Only that it leaves her _wanting._

How strange, yet so fitting. That he'd bite her again before he even _kissed_ her.

He licks her there, something trying and hesitant. She grabs his shoulders, almost touching his neck, and whimpers as he noses the strap of her bra. He tries and fails to drag it down with his teeth, hands sliding up beneath her ribs and gripping her tighter in his frustration. She rolls her shoulder and lets it fall.

When did she start cradling the back of his neck?

The other strap falls by itself. He grazes his open mouth over her other shoulder before nipping at it. Trails it down to the top of her breast, irritating the same little spot over and over, making her head spin as her face overheats.

His fingers trail up her spine. They stop at the hook of her bra, trembling and fumbling and she holds on tight as he curses into her neck, looking over her back. He's shaking too hard to unhook it. She's too overwhelmed to help him.

"What the _hell!"_ he growls, tugging at the fabric. The way it scrapes her back makes her _jump._

" _Ow!"_ she cries, digging her nails into his neck. He hisses and she seethes. "What was that for?!"

"For not _helping me!"_ he _growls,_ and it shakes her inside.

She blinks quickly, collecting herself as the irritation slams into her coiled stomach. "It's not my fault you can't take a girl's _bra off!"_

He grits his teeth, clenching the strap with both hands. "What's _that_ supposed'ta mean!"

She _huffs,_ clenching her fists on his shoulders. "It _means,_ you turn into a girl, and yet, you don't know how to take _care of one!"_

The air hits her bare chest before she can register the sound of something tearing. She blinks dumbly down at him, his heaving chest brushing her still one with each breath.

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" he says, but she's not sure it's the Ranma she knows.

This Ranma seems to go for what they both want.

She's dizzy. Spinning as her hardened nipples graze the fabric of his shirt. Spiralling as his eyes slowly leave hers. Exiting her physical body as he stares at her breasts with this expression of complete and total _awe._

He brings her safely back down when he wraps his arms around her waist and lays his forehead on her chest. The heat of his skin makes her feel even more hot, but she doesn't want him to go.

His breath is shaky. Of course it is. Of course.

Her own shaking hand threads itself through his hair. The other spreads itself upon his shoulder. She focuses on the rise and fall of his back, stuttering. And then his lips running along the inside of her breast in not-kisses, like untying ribbons out of her hair, and she sighs into it.

He cups both of her breasts in his hands, strong but still unsure, and she puffs her chest out slightly so he'd succumb. He squeezes her fully, firmly, and her head lolls back. How can this feel so _amazing?_

He buries his face between her breasts, open mouth closing over her sternum, and she thinks that maybe — maybe he might, maybe he _might —_

" _Mmm,"_ he moans brokenly, lowly, painfully. It shoots through her.

She can't think of anything else to say. "Ranma…" Nothing else. " _Please._ "

With the roll of her hips, he drags the flat of his tongue over the underside of her breast. Over her nipple. Then takes it into his mouth.

No, she has never felt this before. _Ever._

Her knees press into his sides. She tucks herself further into his lap, because somehow it's _possible,_ and his hand is holding her tightly at the lowest part of her back, the other holding her other breast firmly. He's sucking deeply — so deep, so slow, and it electrifies her, comforts her, she's reeling _reeling reeling reeling how can he make me_ feel _this way?_ She's losing her mind, losing control, and there's soft noises being pulled out of her throat as she cradles his head. She's rocking against him, feeling the heat of his desire under hers, she's _dying._

" _Fuck yes,"_ he rasps, guiding her with his hand, closing his teeth gently over her nipple. "Such a good girl, 'kane, so good, so _good…"_ his voice dies into a whisper, the only proof of his words being his lips on her skin. He lifts his hips, groans, sighs, shaking…

He latches onto her other breast, holding it to his mouth. She feels so small… so _feminine_ like this…

_I'm floating._

Her dizzy head is off somewhere in the clouds. If this isn't real… what can she do about it?

But that's him, saying her name over and over, so strung together and scrambled, desperate, he's moving _faster_ against her…

Then he's crushing her to him. His face hiding in her neck. Arms wound all the way around her middle. He holds his head the same exact way as he continues to shake beneath her, a cute little whine escaping him. Maybe her, too.

He nuzzles into her, or maybe he's shaking his head? He's so _hot_ but she doesn't mind it, but when he leaves her, she does.

"I'm sorry, Akane, I'm _sorry_ ," he whimpers, looking down in shame.

It cuts through her high. Gently, she takes his face in her hands and tries to get him to look at her, but he only leans his cheek over her shoulder. She laces her fingers through his hair and scratches lightly at his scalp, calming down a bit as he melts. "Ranma, it's okay… you're good, Ranma…" she coos, running a thumb over his cheek.

"No… _no,_ I'm so…" he sucks in a breath. "I'm… _god._ I dunno, 'kane, I'm—I gotta…" She feels his lashes flutter over her skin before he takes her wrists and pulls them away gently. He looks at her for only a moment, and the shame she sees already haunts her.

She wants to cry because he's hurting. She wants to laugh because he's so sweet for it. She thinks she's about to do both at the same time.

He must see her smile, the tears in her eyes, because he squeezes his shut as a blush heats his face. He leans in like a child sharing a secret. "You're too beautiful, that's why, 'kane…" he says in a rush before turning his face away.

She scoffs. Laughs in utter disbelief. " _What?"_ she says, covering her grin with her mouth.

He shakes his head, confused. "Y-you didn't…?"

"What are you _talking_ about, Ranma? Everything was… _fine._ Like, _really_ fine!"

"O-o-o-oh," he stutters. "I, uh…"

She tilts her head, waiting patiently, her hands playing with the base of his pigtail. "Yes, Ranma?" she says softly.

He looks at her with these wide, young eyes, and it makes her heart ache. She smiles even more.

" _I finished,"_ he says quickly.

She blinks at him. _Oh._

" _Oh."_

She's never seen him _this red._

But… why?

"You're right, Akane, I turn into a girl, but I can't even take care of one! I can't believe this! I'm so… I never _felt_ like this before! I'm so fucking _embarrassed!"_

"Ranma…"

"I should make sure you… finished _first!_ And now I'm just here, and I look like an _idiot! God!"_

"Ranma."

"I'm so sorry… I'm sorry. I'm _really sorry,_ 'kane, _plea—"_

She slaps her hands on his cheeks and brings her nose to his. " _Ranma!_ "

"Y-yes?"

"What's the big deal? Just relax!"

"U-u-uh…"

"It's… not something you get right on the first try… I don't see the problem, Ranma."

He knits his brows together over his big eyes, looking equally as confused as awed. His parted mouth quivers slightly. "R- _really?"_

Why is her heart pounding now? She better stop the world before she comes back down to it and realizes _what they did._

_Oh my freaking god._

"O-of course!" she says, suddenly _flustered._ "Yeah!"

The panic instantly ignites on his face, and he's standing in the next second. She _yelps_ and wraps her legs around his hips, feeling his arms flex around her waist. They look up at each other then, and she feels as much like a deer in headlights as he looks.

Without breaking eye contact, he lowers her to the ground, and she almost forgets that she's _not wearing a shirt_ until he flicks his gaze down and coughs awkwardly. She wants to _scream_ for some reason but she refrains, only crossing her arms over her chest as she scrambles for her pajama top. She growls when she puts it on. She already forgot about how he _ruined her favorite freaking pajamas!_

"You're _ridiculous,"_ she says, brow twitching as she holds either side together.

He chuckles nervously, walking backwards as she walks towards him. Now she's getting _pissed._

_How come he's walking so funny?_

"You're going to buy me new pajamas," she says plainly, death in her stare.

He nods in fear. "G-g-g-good night, Akane…"

With one last look, he grins awkwardly and leaves, shutting the door behind him.

And as soon as she leaves, she _aches._

_Why do I miss that idiot so much?_

She sighs, falling onto her bed and curling into a ball.

* * *

Akane Tendo has ruined him for life and she didn't even have to _try._

Not only is she fucking _irritating_ and annoying and violent and _many other things,_ she's absolutely. Goddamn. _Delicious._

_And gorgeous. God, she's so freaking gorgeous._

Maybe he's possessed again — there's a _good_ chance he is. Because he would not think these thoughts if he were in the right mind, not _ever._

But he has them. And the taste of her skin in his mouth.

Of her breasts.

He _slams_ his head against the bathroom wall, because he had to take _another fucking shower_ because he's a _sorry excuse_ for a man and he fucking _came in his pants!_

_She… felt… so… fucking… good. On. My. Cock._

" _Ugh,"_ he groans. He's half-hard, holding himself with one hand on the wall as he grabs the base of himself. "What the fuck do you do to me, baby?"

Apparently she's _baby_ now, or maybe she has been for awhile but now he keeps saying it, thinking it, thinking about her pretty, pretty body pressed to his. He's never seen such a perfect chest. Never felt one, either, and he's blessed to have hers be his first.

How someone can taste as beautiful as they look, he doesn't _know._

There's a flash of the memory of her breasts bouncing when he tore her bra off.

" _Fuuuuck,"_ he whispers, pumping himself slowly.

How _hot_ she felt where she was sitting on him, grinding down on him…

" _Mmm."_ He squeezes himself and bites his lip. _She's so damn cute._ _Moving those pretty hips over me._ He sighs, trying to recreate the movements with his own, rocking back and forth into his fist. " _Fuck yes."_ That's what he said, wasn't it?

_I wanna eat her. I wanna eat her. I wanna eat her whole. She's mine. Mine mine mine mine minemineminemineminemine_

" _Ah!"_ he cries brokenly as he cums again, pumping everything out of himself, only for the memory of the aftermath to come back to the surface and humiliate him all over again.

He drags his face on the shower tiles, letting all the remnants wash away. If only it could erase the fact that he can only last a good minute anymore.

His body goes slack with the weight of his shame. _Fuck._ He has to make it up to her. Nevermind that everything about it is _strange._ She needs to know that he's not some _chump_ who's only looking to get himself off.

He rinses off his oversensitive body and dries off, slipping on a fresh pair of pajamas and welcoming the coolness of the hallway.

He was so turned on, he just felt the need to rip everything on her _off._ But he's broke — he can't buy her a new pair! She'd probably make him get something expensive too, just to get back at him…

_Maybe she can wear my clothes to sleep._

Holy shit… is he _seriously_ getting turned on again?!

He walks past her door, cringing as the wood creaks beneath him. Everyone's gone to bed now — he can't risk anything, or maybe that's just his excuse right now. They've fought in the middle of the night _plenty_ of times before.

_Do I want to fight, though? Or am I just expecting her to?_

Does he _want_ her to fight? So it'd go back to normal?

_As if our normal was ever normal in the first place._

He tilts his head at his own thoughts. " _Our?"_

His heart stops as her door knob turns. He presses his back flat to the wall and holds his breath, praying to _whoever_ that she doesn't notice him.

But he's not actually praying for that.

She sticks her fists on her hips and raises her brow, her torn top replaced with an oversized shirt. He doesn't realize he's raking his eyes down her body until an image of her wearing his shirt, and _only_ his shirt, courses through his mind.

He licks his dry lips and meets her eyes, so mean even though her cute cheeks are all red and splotchy.

He's moving on his own accord, all his fears evaporating into the air. He comes in close and feels this flicker of pride when she bends her neck back to look up at him.

"Can I make it up to you?" he says low, cupping the back of her neck so she doesn't have to hold it there herself.

"Huh?" she breathes, confused.

He rolls his eyes. "You know what for, Akane."

She blinks up at him, folding her hands over her chest. "O-oh…"

He nods, twirling her hair between his fingers, hoping it feels as good as when she touched his hair. He pulls his expression into something serious and leans in, brushing the tip of his nose against hers.

"Please. Whenever you're ready."

With a small smile, hesitantly, he lets her go.

_When did I lose my mind?_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥️

She's torn away from the pleasant hum of her daydreams and it feels like someone woke her up after she had just fallen asleep. Someone's calling her name — she's not _actually_ back in her room, like she is in her head.

No. She's in school. And her poor friend is trying to talk to her, when she is currently not on Earth.

"Earth to Akane!" Sayuri says, waving her hand in front of her face. "Did you hear me?"

She smiles awkwardly, placing her palms on her warming cheeks. "No, sorry…" she says quietly, leaning back in her seat. "I, uh…"

_How can I_ ever _even_ begin _to explain this?!_

"How. Do. You. Think. You. Did. On. The. _Test?"_ Sayuri makes sure to enunciate every syllable, and it hurts her fantasies. She wants to drown in her mind again… she'd rather live there for now, instead of answering questions.

When exactly did she stop caring about exams? Last night, probably…

She blinks slowly and laces her fingers together in front of her. "Good, I think."

"You seem really confident…" Yuka says, clearly distressed. "Give me your brain, Akane!"

_You can have it,_ she almost says. And then, _nevermind, I don't want you to see what's all mine._

Last night has been replaying in her head nonstop. Her body remembers it the most — there's this heaviness to her, a _pleasant_ kind that she's never felt before. Like some kind of… warmth. A certain kind of _satisfaction._

_Shock. Awe. Adoration. Excitement._

The butterflies explode in her stomach again. The heat of his mouth flutters over her skin still, even when he's not on it.

_Too beautiful._

A slow strike of lighting ignites every layer of her. Something's gotta give… she can't live like this, no matter how _nice_ it is, staying in Lala Land.

"You look different today, Akane," Sayuri says with a tilt of her head. "Like… I don't know. You're not your usual self."

If she had the energy — the _will_ to react, she'd sound just like her usual self. But that part of her is sleeping safe and sound somewhere. She can't tell if this is a good thing or not, or even if she cares enough to worry.

She shrugs at her friends, an easy smile taking over her face. "I dunno… just one of those days, y'know?"

Yuka drags her desk closer to hers and sits, taking out her lunch. "Yeah, I feel that. It's not really a bad thing."

"Mhm," Sayuri agrees. "You look happier. Almost _dopey._ "

Akane giggles at the word. Is that what she is? _Is this what it's like to get high?_ She takes out her bento and carefully opens it. "I think I might be sleep deprived."

"Funny. You're usually cranky when you don't sleep enough," Sayuri says with the raise of her brow, one that _could_ be suggestive. Like maybe she might have an idea of what happened…

Akane snorts and shakes her head. "No, I _swear!"_

"Swear what?" Hiroshi says, pulling his desk to their makeshift table.

"None of your business," she says, sticking her tongue out playfully.

Daisuke pokes her arm lightly. "Wow, Akane, you really did get better at cooking, didn't you?"

She smiles, taking in the compliment. It feels so nice to be recognized for her hard work, no matter how small! "Why, _thank you."_

She shifts her gaze and reality slips away again.

Because she remembers, again — she remembers whose stare she felt all morning.

And now it's on her. Full force. It's like a dagger through her chest, but she finds that she doesn't mind the pressure of it, even though she's already squirming in her seat.

He's sitting right across from her, arms crossed over his chest, no trace of amusement in his eyes. She can't say what it is that makes him look _dangerous —_ maybe it's his brows, lowered and touching his lids. Or the way his pupils are bigger than normal.

It's all they still haven't done. Still haven't said. It's in the silence between them, that's what comes to mind. One look and it's already dragging the ugly parts out of her, while taming it all the same. He puts her in a limbo and she allows it.

The hunger is in the air between them, and it's potent in the second it takes to register that he's there. Still looking _kind_ despite the emotion they both hide.

Their friends talk next to them, and she makes an effort to join, she does — she laughs at the right times, makes the right gestures. And he does as well, every motion he makes somehow radiating heat to her.

So when she hears her name again, it doesn't register right away. When it does, her heart nearly breaks itself against her ribcage.

"Right, 'kane?" he says softly, because she knows he knows she's not listening — how can he be so put together? Why is she failing to stay here?

"R-right," she stammers, shoving a bite of her food into her mouth. He follows it with his eyes, and the look lingers on her lips.

He crosses his arms behind his neck leans back, looking more smug than he deserves to be — _am I that obvious?_ There's an argument building inside of her, then. Maybe she just needed him to spark her fire today, in more ways than one. She narrows her eyes at him slightly, reminding him without words that he doesn't have the upperhand here.

_But do I?_

Maybe not — but she can always pretend.

She doesn't miss the way he gulps, and she knows his _mishap_ last night has come back to haunt him. _He can choke on his ego and his pride for all I care._

_As long as you come back to me._

That helpless look in his eyes… she goes soft. _I won't let you feel bad about yourself._

There's conversation dying in sound around them, but there's a louder one in the silence of their stares. They talk like this a lot, refusing to acknowledge how well they understand each other, and it baffles her, suddenly.

He lowers his arms, hooking them behind his seat, his chest and shoulders looking broader than before. In a way that looks _too good,_ and a noise almost _escapes her,_ and _oh, remember last night, when he made you make a lot of brand new noises?_

And then she dies as his eyes, his freezer burn eyes, rake down to her chest.

As they linger.

Back up again.

To her face, frozen from the flames crack, crack, _crackling_ in her heartbeat.

And the heaviness — the weight of how _beautiful_ he makes her feel, it settles in deeper.

His brows twitch. Her stomach flips. His eyes grow darker, softer. Her center aches.

A smirk stretches his lips, like he can't hold it back, and it simmers whatever is inside of her. He's so proud to have caught her off guard, to control her like this, as much as she _hates_ to admit it.

It's just the truth.

Maybe she won't deny it this time. Maybe they'll get to the point where they don't have to anymore — _what a dangerous thing to hope for._

But as he winks before turning the other way and playing his part, his foot nudges hers beneath the table. It's subtle and practically _nothing_ but just his _warmth_ is enough to have her think:

_I want more, Ranma. I want_ you.

* * *

"Look at her go… _damn."_

"That's what I'm sayin'. She looks cuter than usual today, doesn't she?"

"Yeah." Hiroshi whistles. "I'd _love_ to get a piece of _that._ "

The degenerate conversion his idiot friends were having only just started to register in his brain. He's too busy watching _her,_ her movements as close to graceful as he's ever seen them — but her brute strength always had a kind of _grace_ to them, doesn't it?

Maybe he's just being too nice to her now, even if it's just _nice thoughts_ that he's having. He can always blame her for making him soft.

_And hard._

He should stop oogling her now before he _really_ has a problem.

But even if he did… he'd still be thinking about last night. And the fact that she's a few feet away, in her leotard on the balance beam, standing tall and proud as she walks down the length of it.

Yeah. He's staring again. So _what?_

"Her ass looks good," Daisuke says beside him. Whoever the hell he's talking about, he doesn't care for.

Hiroshi laughs. "Doesn't it always?"

He fidgets from his spot on the gym floor. She twirls around on one foot at the end of the beam, smiling down at a girlfriend. She lowers her arms and the light from the windows seems to surround her. It fills the space between the crooks of her elbows and her tiny waist. It washes over her wider hips and silky legs, around her head like a halo…

_Angelic._

He cringes as his blood rushes down. All he wants to do is just _take her away_ and feel that _soft goddamn skin of hers goddammit Akane what the_ fuck _are you doing to me?!_

"Did her tits get bigger, or is it just me?"

"Hmm… Ranma, whaddaya think?"

There's an elbow jamming into his arm and it tears him away from what was about to be drooling. His friends stare at him, matching smiles on their faces.

He rolls his eyes. "Not interested."

Hiroshi shakes him a bit. "Aww, c'mon!"

Daisuke snickers. "You should know your own fiancée's body, right?"

His mind cracks like broken glass.

"...What?"

He says it quietly. Too calm to actually be calm.

He should get himself together.

"Akane's rack looks great today, don't you think?"

_Are they fucking with me._

But he's having a _real_ hard time doing so.

It's like lava bubbling in his chest. Thick and slow, spreading all over his insides. His brain and his body screaming, _mine mine mine mine MINE._

They were talking about _her_ this whole time, and he didn't even _realize?_

He shuts his eyes for a moment and smiles. "What about her _rack?"_ He makes sure to really _enunciate_ the word, even though his chest burns as he says it.

" _Woah._ Aren't you proud of havin' a _fiancée_ like that?"

"Can't we just look, bro? No harm in looking…"

"I can't believe how sexy she looks…"

"I'd sure love to get with th—"

He stands and towers over them, flames surrounding him. " _Watch your fucking mouths."_

But all he gets as a response is laughter.

_Fuck, I shoulda known…_

" _Honestly!"_ he cries, throwing his arms up in the air. "What the hell was _that_ for?!"

His friends giggle and exchange glances. They're probably bigger gossips than the girls…

"Where's your, _'she's so uncute!'"_ Hiroshi says, mocking him with a high-pitched voice that does _not_ sound like him.

"W-w- _what?"_ He _despises_ the blush rising to his cheeks. "I don't sound like that!"

" _Yeaaaah,_ you kinda do," Daisuke smirks, his eyes shifting behind him before going wide. He whistles. " _Damn."_

He _growls,_ taking a step closer. "Stop _looking!"_

"Why? Not doing anything _wrong…"_

He can't… he can't _control_ all the emotions welling up inside. It's bubbling and bursting and it goes:

" _SHE'S MINE! QUIT FUCKING LOOKING AT HER!"_

Immediately, the shock at what comes out of his own mouth strikes him and he whips around _afraid,_ and the first thing he catches is her eyes.

The second thing he catches is her.

Because he threw her off balance and before she could reach the ground and hurt herself _again,_ he's beneath her and scooping her into his arms, the way he secretly always liked to.

_Like my bride._

He might actually _die_ from the embarrassment.

" _Ranma!"_ she gasps, arms locked around his neck.

He forces his face to go _dead straight_ despite the fact that his cheeks are burning up right now. _Think of something!_

"Let's get your leg checked out. I'll take you to the nurse," he says loud and clear, _just so everyone knows._

_Nice one._

"N-no, I-I think I'm fine…" she says lowly, and he shakes her lightly, giving her a _freaking warning_ to play along.

_Akane, if you care at all, you wouldn't embarrass the both of us right now!_ He tells her this with his eyes as he feels everyone else's burning into them. No _doubt_ they're going to be talking nonstop about this… _performance_ today.

She blinks, the lightbulb turning on in her head. She lifts her leg slightly and hisses. " _Ah,_ it _does_ hurt! Maybe I sprained it…"

Murmurs circle them. "Alright, ya klutz, let's go before you sprain somethin' else!"

She _tugs_ on his ear and his head stretches _very uncomfortably_ to the side. " _Ouch!"_

" _Hmph!"_ She turns her nose in the air as he twitches his brow in irritation.

It's too bad she actually looks so damn _adorable_ right now.

"Outta the way!" he calls to their classmates as he makes his way out of the gym and into the empty hall.

He walks down it and turns the corner, only then bothering to look at her. He finds her glancing at him from the corner of her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips.

" _What?"_ he yaps, ready to _fight_ if she says a _word_ about—

"Oh, nothing…" she says, leaning her head on his cheek and _oh,_ he is _not_ handling this well.

"Then s-stop lookin' at me like that, alright? I helped ya out!"

She raises a brow and then her voice. "No, Ranma, _I_ helped _you."_

He bites his tongue because he doesn't have enough of a brain to refute that.

She hugs him just a _bit_ tighter, and so do his pants. "But I don't mind…" she says softly, her breath fanning over his cheek.

_Oh, shit._

But then she retracts herself from him, her face level with his. " _Even though_ I could've actually broken a bone! Why can't you ever get a hold of yourself?"

It's like there's smoke around his head. God, she's so _irritating!_ "It's not _my_ fault you can't keep your balance! Why the hell are you blaming it on _me?"_

" _Because!"_ She huffs her cheeks. _Why is that so fucking cute?!_ "You can't just _say_ things like that! It's so _embarrassing!"_

He scrunches his face up. "Oh, _yeah?_ And _you're_ not embarrassing?"

She _gasps._ "How am _I_ embarrassing?!"

He scoffs. "I shoulda let you fall… would've taken the attention offa me…"

He's done it now. She pounds his shoulder and then his chest. " _Jerk!_ Let me down _right now!"_

Now she's flailing — holy shit, why does she always _react_ like this?

' _Cause you bring it outta her, jackass._

He holds her tighter to his body, crushing her knees together and shoulder to him as she continues to hit him. " _Hey!_ Cut it out! I'm not putting you down!"

Even though she's still _angry,_ there's this sound in her voice he can't exactly name. " _Why?"_

_Hope?_

"You're not wearin' shoes. Do you _really_ wanna walk all over the dirty ass floor?" he says in her face, watching her shrink back against his shoulder. " _Yeah_ , didn't think so."

She grabs the front of his grey gym shirt, tugging at the collar. Pouting. _I shouldn't be this soft for her. For_ anyone. "You don't have to be such a jerk about it…"

He looks at her, frowning slightly. She's so… _sad._

He walks further down the hall and finds an empty classroom. He turns the knob and sits in a seat in the back corner, where no one could see them through the window. He keeps her on his lap.

"Don't get your feelings hurt so easy by me, 'kane," he says low, his face inches away from hers. She still won't look at him from her place on his shoulder. Her hands fall to the middle of his chest, limp.

"Hey," he whispers, bumping the tip of his nose against her hair. "Look at me?"

It takes a moment, but she does, her sweet brown eyes big and making him all _mushy_ on the inside. She pouts with her pretty pink lips. "You just confuse me, Ranma…"

He frowns even deeper than before. "Y'know, a lot of the things I say… I don't mean it, Akane."

His honesty must feel as good for her as it does for him — she sighs and smiles slightly, flattening a hand against his chest. "Really?"

He nods, soaking in the feeling of her palm sliding up his neck, onto his cheek. "Really," he mumbles.

Her dainty fingers cup the side of his face, her thumb stroking the skin above his jawline. Their eyes sink lower as she leans in and plants a gentle, full kiss right beside the corner of his mouth. His lips twitch with the need to cover hers.

Slowly, she lets it go, her warmth still tingling his skin. "Thank you for always catching me," she whispers.

He nods dumbly, gulping. Trying _so hard_ not to give away how much he's _melting._

But then he realizes — _what am I so afraid of?_

He blinks slowly, trying to come back to his senses. She's waiting patiently for him to meet her in the middle.

He pulls the arm underneath her knees out, letting her legs curl around his thigh. He keeps her gaze on his, so _intent_ like earlier today, when he was teasing her, and when she teased him right back. _God, she's so much fun. I love playing around with her._ Every argument with her is just foreplay, isn't it? It always gets his blood rushing, gets his temperature up like nothing else.

He slides his hand up her leg nice and slow, his other arm snaking around her waist. He cups his palm around her hip, fingertips pressing into her thigh, into her _ass_ and his other hand tucked onto her stomach. She leans in and he squeezes her close, her arms back around his neck and chest pressing onto his.

The look she's giving him… it's like she's _helpless_ for him.

" _Ranma,"_ she breathes, quiet. He leans in.

They stay.

This is the part where something, some _one_ breaks them apart. Where the moment gets violently killed by some external factor that's wildly out of their control.

But he can't bring himself to close the moment. He can't bring himself to move forward, in every sense of the word.

He's done more intimate things with her. Shared such great moments of his life with her, talked to her about things he's never told anyone. And last night, he saw her half-naked body and had her in his _mouth._

And yet.

_How can I?_

It'd be perfect if he wasn't so _afraid._

And judging by the look that's flickering in her eyes, she seems to feel it, too.

They both sigh in relief, sinking into each other. He rests his cheek on top of her head and loosens his grip.

"...I get it," she says, cupping the back of his neck and squeezing. It sends tingles up his scalp and down his spine.

He rubs her stomach and then finds the dip of her waist. He squeezes her there and smiles as she shivers. "I know."

_There's so much. Too much that we don't understand._

But for right now, for what feels like the first time, or just the first time he'll admit it to himself: he feels like they're the same.

He smirks. "But don't think I won't keep my word."

Her cheeks go up in flames and he _laughs._


End file.
